The First Time
by dimension7
Summary: A group of one-shots as to how Trigun characters lost their cherries!  Ridiculously dark, violent, and morbid.  Contains tons of yaoi, a little het, some torture, noncon... all sorts of stuff.  Each chapter has its own warnings.  Not for the squeamish.
1. Chapter 1

Note: This has been written piece by piece over the last four years, and greatly reflects the state of my existence during that time. There are a lot of horribly unhappy things ahead of you if you've clicked this story, and I will post each chapter with its own warnings. Pick and choose if you like, they are all stand-alone pieces.

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun or its characters, and make no profit from writing this.

Warning: The chapter contains extremely graphic child molestation and violence.

The First Time

It was dark, and the floor against my face was so very cold. Somebody was talking, ranting above me; I tried to open my eyes. I grasped my head in pain, half my face was swollen and thrumming with warm pricks, a bruise already forming. That eye would not open. I pushed myself into a sitting position, to meet a thick rubber toe, that slammed me back to the floor. I hugged myself, and began to cry, I was so confused. "Rem! Rem!" He kicked me again, in my mouth. I could taste copper, and could feel the warm trickle on my chin, my mouth was full, and I began to choke. Coughing, I spat my blood as far away from myself as I could, and he began to laugh.

"Rem isn't here, she isn't going to protect you. Stop your crying, stop trying to make such a fuss out of this, shut up and listen to me." I didn't stop crying though, so he stomped on my fingers, and twisted his boot. When I tried to scream, he swooped over me, and lifted me by my throat. "The harder you make this for me, the harder I'll make it for your brother."

OHMYGOD why hadn't that occurred to me? For a second, I went utterly rigid with fear, staring with my one tear and blood smeared eye into his, and I wondered, had he already done this to Vash? I didn't think so, and I didn't want Steve to hurt my brother like this, so I stopped sobbing, and said, "Yes." That was all it took.

He dropped me, and I hit my knees with a thud. He made some vulgar comment I didn't at the time understand, and while I steeled myself for another blow, clenching my eyes and jaw, Steve wrapped his fingers in my hair. For the flicker of a second, Steve's hand caressed my scalp, but then his fingers dug in, clenching the back of my head. I heard his zipper, and heard him fumbling with something (my only dim chance at redemption, and I sat there with my eyes closed) then he thumped his hand against my face, not hard. When he did it again though, by my mouth, I realized it was not his hand. First, there was the smell. Musty and human, sweat dried in short hair, trapped up in several layers all day, the most sickening stench in my life. Hands aren't round, either. So, though I had an inkling as to what my have been happening, I opened my eyes and looked first at it, small, poking out of a bush half its height, Steve's other hand on the base of it, holding it out to me, and then I looked up at him, as he swayed back and forth, his eyes cold and severe.

"Well, don't you know what to do now?" He giggled joylessly. I felt more confused than the entire night prior, unable to remember even how this had begun. I shook my head to the negative, and Steve laughed. He removed the hand from his balls, and grabbed my chin tightly. "This is the most important thing you'll learn to do in your life," he rasped at me as he shoved a finger in my mouth.

Instinctually, I bit. This earned me an ear-boxing, and as the world spun and I was so shocked every sound came in on waves, Steve hooked his finger around my cheek and I opened my mouth wide. Then his cock was in my throat, his hands on my head and upper back, and the whole while he spoke to me, some words choked, some in rage. "You better not fucking bite me. Vash wouldn't bite, he's so much smarter than you are, knows what to do for his own good. You can tell anyone you like though Knives, tell anyone at all that you sucked me dick. Tell them how much you liked it. Nobody would ever believe you, if you told them about this. And you know what, this isn't even illegal. You aren't a human. So tell your Rem. She can't do anything. Tell your brother what you let me do to you, he'll be so disgusted." And then he would laugh some more.

My mouth would fill up with blood and something thicker, saltier, and he wouldn't let me breathe. I had to swallow all of it. This went on for some time, Steve laughing and berating me, me acting as though none of it was real, nothing was real, and Vashu was safe. Then I threw up. All the blood, and the way he was forcing my body, holding me and shaking me and fucking my face, invading my throat, and talking about everything…. I almost choked to death on my own vomit, and that could have quite potentially been the best thing to ever happen to me, but it didn't. He pulled away, with a scowl, and let me retch for several seconds. He took my shirt from me, and wiped himself with it, laughing again. Then, when I began to pull myself up on hand and knee, he was behind me ripping my pants down. I heard him spit, felt one hand on my hip, then felt him leaning into me.

Absolute terror.

What the hell could he be trying to do? But I knew, of course, I knew-there was only one thing he could be doing, and in that moment, I begged.

"Please let me go, let me go please I won't tell anyone, I'll never tell, please let me go Steve I'm so sorry…"

"You're going to like this Knives. It's you or your brother." To my eternal shame, I still begged him to stop, even though I knew what he'd do to Vash. It didn't matter though, Vash was the more loved, Rem would have known, Steve wouldn't have dared, but I didn't know that then. The begging amounted to nothing, he crammed himself up inside me fiercely, and I howled. Though he was holding me, I tried to buck away from the pain, so severe, and succeeded only in landing in my own sick. He didn't stop, didn't even laugh now, just held me as tightly as he could, and shortly, whenever I cried out or screamed, he would smash my face into the floor, the side that was already soft and swollen, so I tried to stay quiet.

All said and told, it couldn't really have lasted that long, but my memory stretches it. Maybe it was thirty seconds, maybe it was ten minutes, and though it will be an eternity to me my entire life long, I am inclined to think it took the better part of an hour.

Committing this horrendous act, Steve couldn't maintain a hard-on. Position me however he would, and bang away however hard, he didn't come. At length, he pulled away from me, and wiped himself with my shirt again. I tried to run. With a sickening glee, he pounced for me like a cat, as I began to cry and scream again, and this time, as I struggled and tried to turn around and bite him, tried to scratch at him- anything- he came. He slammed my head into the floor, leaned on me with all his weight, and rammed into me several times very hard, and then all about collapsed on me. His breath against my throat made me sick, his body against mine made me sick. I could feel the bile and blood cooling against my skin, as he smeared it into me further. Finally Steve stood up, and looking around, giggled again.

"You better get this place cleaned up Knives, the next time they come down here to check on the Plants, you don't want them to find you like this, do ya? And he left me, with the open and staring eyes of all my the Plants, all my own kind, on the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

_Warnings: Full on yaoi twincest._

_The wind never stopped. The days were hot, the nights were cold, and the blowing was incessant. I had begun to hate my brother. I tried to forgive him, tried to see things his way, tried to love him, but it was pointless. I couldn't forget Rem, and whenever he sensed that I was thinking of her, he would get so angry. So I learned to be quiet, and to be patient, because without me, who would take care of him? Without him, who would take care of me? I lived off my love for my brother, and didn't notice when it began to sour, when my life became routine, and I had to seriously control myself, watch what I wanted to say. I didn't notice, because when you're living on love, you know that if that love ends, your life ends. I never wanted to hurt Knives, but I just didn't know if I could stay with him anymore, or at what point my love for him became self-mutilation._

_As we drifted apart, I noticed that he tried harder to say kind things to me, tried not to say any of his colder thoughts, tried not to rant about his hatred for humans, tried not to say anything about Rem, but none of it seemed significant. He had to try to censor himself so we wouldn't fight, and I couldn't appreciate the effort because I had subconsciously given up. A long time passed like that, where I only followed because following was all I knew, I only stayed because I had convinced myself this love was all that I would ever have, my brother more a part of me than I was._

_Then things began to change, or more-so, we began to change. I guess neither of us had realized we would age similar to humans, that we would "grow up", and since no other Plants had lived outside the glass before, we had no idea how quickly it would happen, or what it could possibly be like. Therefore, imagine awakening not as pubescent, but young adult, those awkward tweens gone before they could be analyzed. _

_Imagine taking a bath in one of the very few and far between oasis's, turning around to see your twin staring at you. I mean staring at you, as though there was anything on me different than on him. It was little stuff like that mostly. Waking up at night with Knives staring at me, play wrestling that ended up uncomfortable, accidentally touching my butt. That sort of stuff, so even though I didn't know what an infatuation was, or understand anything about physical love, Knives did, and he wanted me. _

_These incidences culminated, and finally, I don't think he could have stopped if he'd wanted to._

_We'd been walking for hours, just walking. Somehow, Knives never got lost in the desert; I couldn't figure it out, he said it was because of our "Brother and Sister Plants", and he could feel where they were in relation to us. However, he had no way of knowing there was an enormous sand storm coming, and it was by sheerest luck that we were able to find a part of the wreckage to hide in._

_As the sands began to lift and blow around us, we looked around frantically. We knew this planet ate things, and whatever we took shelter in had to be rather large, or we may be buried. All we managed to find was part of a hallway from a SEEDS ship, one end of it so mangled it wasn't open, the other conveniently facing a rock face. In our run, I fell, and smashed my knee into a rock. Knives didn't hesitate, he grabbed me up, and helped me along. On his face was the look of pure horror, and as we settled in, I realized it was fear of my blood. Not that he feared it could harm him, but I think a fear because I was harmed. That was proven in the way he began to squabble about me, and make such a fuss._

"_It's just a busted knee Knives, I'll be perfectly fine."_

"_Are you sure Vash? You don't think you chipped the bone, do you? I think we should tourniquet off your leg, so you don't lose too much blood… What if you died from dehydration and blood loss? Don't look at me like that, we've barely had any water. We need to sterilize that somehow…"_

_I pulled my pant leg up, and blinked at the tiny abrasion on my knee. "No, really Knives, I'm totally fine. Don't worry about me." And I tried to give him a reassuring smile, but for some reason, he looked like he was going to cry._

"_I just worry about you so much Vashu, you're the only thing I care about. Just me, and you, and being happy- I don't want you to ever get hurt. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you…"_

_I cut him off, "Knives, really, I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen to me. I'm not hurt, we're just going to sit this storm out, and then we're back on our way, ok? Don't worry about me."_

"_I do worry about you though, I worry about the humans hurting you…"_

"_You're paranoid. You're manipulative. The humans on the ship never did anything to you, Steve only hurt the others because you made him! God Knives, I just can't stand you anymore, I hate you! You and this crazy stigma about humans! You already almost annihilated the species, what more do you want? You're nuts. I love you, but you're nuts."_

_It had been a long time in coming, and once I'd started I couldn't stop. When I was too exasperated to continue, I looked at my brother, to see if he'd heard me, if he'd realized just how much he had hurt me, just how horrible he'd been._

"_Everything. I. Have done. Was. For you." Knives' face was hard, his eyes were distant, and his lips were a solemn line. I was quite suddenly terrified of my brother for the first time. I'd seen him mad before, but none of the jovial quality was here now. I wondered then, as I would many times yet to come, how many personalities did he have? I waited to see if he'd snap, but he didn't seem like he would. _

"_Knives. I know you think you did the right thing, that you think people are parasites, but those were the good ones. I just don't understand…" He was laughing at me. Knives was mocking me, laughing like I was an idiot. I punched him in the lip. Before I had time to think about it, I was pinned to the floor, and I realized how strong Knives really was. His face was parallel to mine, and his lip was beginning to drip a bit of blood onto my mouth._

"_Maybe they weren't so good, ya know?" The words came out a hiss, Knives' breathing rapid, his heart pounding, and my own blood deafening in my ears. I'd known he was crazy, but I was afraid. I'd never thought be might hurt me, and I understood that he wasn't really himself, that there was no Knives' just some maniac in his body._

"_I'm sorry, brother I love you, I didn't want to make you mad…"_

"_I love you too Vash. I love_ you." He kissed me. At first I was upset by the blood, I didn't want to taste it, but then, I broke: if this was what Knives gave in his love, wasn't it only right that I return it? I kissed him back, closed mouthed, like Rem had taught us as children, a chaste show of affection. I was… stunned by how he was touching me now, and kissing me, and kissing me.

"What are you doing? Knives, what are you doing?"

"I love you Vash. Please, can I love you?"

"I love you too…" His hands were tugging at my waistline, pulling on my pants. His fingers were warm, and when he touched me, I became instantly rigid. I felt flushed, I felt so rushed, and I liked it. "Knives…"

"I love you Vashu, I won't hurt you…" He spoke to me between kisses, suckling-needy kisses, across my chest, across my throat, and on my face. He sat back a second to look at me, both his hands on my groin. I was stunned, but I had absolutely no basis of comparison, and it _felt good. After a moment, Knives moved lower, he grinned at me, almost playfully, and I was afraid again for a second, but then he'd taken my dick in his mouth, and all I could think of was how great it really was. So this was love._

_I was enthralled, and consumed by feelings I'd never had before. I had no way to comprehend what was happening, and I didn't even try. After awhile (an amazing while) my brother was kissing my face again. "Let me do that to you. That was wonderful…"_

"_No, I have something else I want you to do, okay?" His eyes were pleading, and I couldn't comprehend the emotion behind the cold steel._

"_I love you Knives."_

"_I know. You're going to show me though, okay? This is special Vash, this isn't just something silly, this means that I'm the most important person to you, and that you're the most important person to me, okay?" I nodded._

_Knives gave me a weak smile, and spat into his hand. He quickly lubricated me, and positioned himself above me. He had me hold myself, and lowered onto me. It was incredibly tight, I lost all conscious thought for a second, then I took my hand away. Knives smiled at me, and pushed himself further down. I pulled my head up, to look and see whatever I could, and I decided to massage his cock like he'd done mine. Knives ended up helping me do that too though, and with me touching him, I immediately lost it. All said, I probably fucked my brother for two minutes or so, until I blew my first load into him, and lay back in spasms. He masturbated, sitting astride me like that for a few minutes longer, and as I watched, he cupped his hand and caught most of his semen. What landed on my belly, I ran my finger over, and tasted._

_We lay there holding each other all night, and once he was asleep, I was left with my own thoughts. If that was love, why did I feel so numb? So empty? And if that had been something so special, why had I done it with him? I could barely take being around him. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want to wake him up. I didn't want to see him, or ever do that again. It had been hard enough trying to tell myself to leave before I had done that with him, and I was so confused I didn't think there was any way I could leave him now. He would die. It would kill him. I couldn't let myself be the cause of my brothers' death, so I stayed, and pretended to love him, and quickly enough, learned to love his special attention._


	3. Chapter 3

Note: My first het.

Warnings: Het, contains oral, anal, objectification of women, dirty alleyway sex… all together pretty tame.

I'd been playing outside the bar some six years, since I was twelve years old, trying to earn dimes and nickels from drunks and bums who had their own afflictions to feed. It was tough, but what else do ya do when you're just wasting time waiting for your ma and pop to come out? The sax I was playing then wasn't anything special, just one Ma picked up off a dead guy for me.

And then here comes this broad, shoulders out, tits high, long legs, and a beautiful ass. The notes I was blowing went dry for a second, seized up inside me, and all I could do was stare. She looked at me, and just when I knew she was going to laugh, I started playing again, my best cover-up, something sexy. It worked, because the next thing I knew, we were in the alley, and those high firm titties were underneath my hands, and that short skirt was pulled up over her waist. She directed one of my hands to her pussy, and my first exploring fingers met a thick wetness, and my dick became steel in my pants. Then, as her fingers twined around my balls, and she kissed and sucked at my mouth, she confessed, "I love a sax man."

I felt myself being caught in the moment, being pulled into her, and it didn't matter that aforementioned sax is actually abandoned on top of a trash can, or that any damn drunk could see us coming out of the bar, or that I didn't even know her name. It didn't matter that my girlfriend was at home on the other side of town, doing her homework. She was still in school, I gave up a long time before. It didn't matter that the smell of trash and piss and puke ruled here, because her cunt was dripping, and she wanted to fuck a sax man.

I spanked her, and she yelped gleefully. I took my fingers away from her hot and wet labia, and sucked them. I was decided.

"We have to do this,"

"Yes," She purred.

"We're going upstairs."

"Oh?" She had laughter in her eyes, but I could tell she liked it better in the street.

"Yes. My friends talk about eating pussy. I want to eat yours, you got a problem with that?"

"None at all," she giggled, "none at all."

We walked through the bar, our clothes disheveled, both our hair a mess, and as I followed her up the stairs, looking at her ass, my cock aching. I wanted to bend her over, right there, on the stairs, and fuck her till her head exploded. I barely made it to the room, and she pulled her skirt up, showing me her bare ass, the dark spot where her pussy sat. Once the door shut behind us, I was slavering. I swooped her up, and plopped her on the bed, then put my face between her legs.

The smell was unique, and the taste was not unpleasant. I pulled her lips open, and sucked on her red little clit. I batted it around with my tongue. I hummed on it. She twisted and writhed, humping my face, grabbing my hair, and she came all over me.

When I pushed my dick into her, she was so wet and so slick it continuously at first slipped further back, into the cleft of her gorgeous ass. She would laugh and smile, and clearly wanted me to fuck her there as well. Her pussy felt good, gripping around me, pulling, sucking. The light catching in her red hair was amazing, and I just couldn't stop fucking her… When I came, all the sounds around me faded out, this this tune… and my eyes, my eyes saw a bleary girl, red hair, brown eyes, perfect skin, and a small poutish sexy mouth. The tune was her song, this beautiful girl and this perfect music…

And all of a sudden she was sucking it, and though it kinda ached, in a different sense, I was perfectly ready to go again. She sat on my face, and sucked my balls. She pinched my nipples and her own. She led my fingers to her tight asshole, and she showed me how much she wanted me there too. She had me sit on her belly, so I could fuck her tits, and come on her face. Then she sucked me up again. She begged me to put it into her ass, and I did. It was so tight it was nearly uncomfortable, and then it was amazing.

We stayed in that room above the bar for eight hours, and I came just as many times. When we were finally sated, exhausted, I rolled over, and eyes her suspiciously. "So. What's your name?

"Oh, my name…. Sylvia," I knew she lied, "call me Sylvia, dear."

I fell asleep holding her, but when I woke, she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Rape-ish activities. Underage sex, implied child molestation, extreme violence, yaoi, ooc.

I hated the compound. My guardian had some sort of business here, but I would have rather been at the orphanage. First of all, the big guy "Master Knives" was a creep. A strait-up creep. I didn't like the way he looked at me, I didn't like the way he talked to me, and I had half a mind to shoot him just like the last pervert who got too close to me. And then there was the other kid, the slave. We were near the same age, but the kid was a creep too, from being in contact with the big creep I'd guess. It was like Legate was on another plane or something, like he really didn't exist where I did.

At night I could sometimes hear disturbing things, things that made me think about some of the stuff the other orphans and unwanted children described. Sometimes, Legato screamed, but not as often as Knives yelled. The next day, Legato would sport some cut, or some bruise, and I always knew there was far more damage that was covered than was shown, and it was shown only so that the Evergreen and myself might see it.

Knives believed all humans worthless waste, and as terrorists, there wasn't much evidence we could provide to the contrary. We had been at his oasis for some time, when one day Legato never surfaced. The night before I'd heard nothing, and nobody mentioned anything. It was like no one had ever noticed there was always a little blue haired kid my age around here, slinking about afraid of his own shadow.

That night, however, the screams were terrifying. I thought for sure Legato would have to be dead, there was no way anyone could survive something horrible enough to make them scream like that, but in the morning, there he was. No bruises, no cuts. Just a huge bag under his visible eye, and the sallow skin of the sleep deprived.

I'd never spoken to Legato much before, it had never been convenient, and seemed so pointless, but I wanted to know. "Did your master hurt you?"

Legato looked at me, shock on his face. He whispered, "Shhhh! No my master did not hurt me. Shut up. Leave me alone." And tried to get out of the room as quickly as possible, before any more fraternization could commence.

Where I came from, the orphanages and halfway houses, this was not how one behaved. I didn't realize, because I hadn't thought it over very thoroughly, but obviously Legato did not know any normal kind of expected behavior. I spun the taller and thinner boy around, and I punched him in his lip. He was shocked, and looked at me as though everything were happening a million miles away, and then he started to swing and hit back. I fell beneath a pummeling from the malnourished boy, whose tears splattered against my face as he struck out. It wasn't long before Evergreen was there to break it up, Knives standing aside laughing, suggesting we were left to kill each other for entertainment. Legato was insane. I looked into his face, the mauled eye visible, and I saw the presence of emptiness.

Knives came back after a long time, Evergreen and I had already eaten. I didn't pay attention to what they talked about, I didn't care. It seemed they were trying to find something, or someone. At the end of the evening, I overheard Knives sarcastically mention, "There'll probably be screams tonight, Legato hasn't been allotted his medicine, as punishment, the prior two nights." Knives thought it would be funny to see if the state of dementia increased significantly over a short period of time, like an experiment.

I dreamt most of the night, about the crying in the orphanage. The screams woke me, but I dozed out again. Now it was Legato in my dream though, and I realized I wanted to hold him. He was pretty, and so sad. "I can't sleep," he said, "they won't let me. I can't breathe. He won't let me. I feel trapped. How do I get out of here? You got out, didn't you Nick? You got away, somehow, right? Get me out, get me out too…" and his lips smashed into mine, and his hand massaged my crotch.

I woke up dripping sweat, my hand where Legato's dream hand had been a moment before, pumping myself loose, and concluding one of my first wet dreams, though I knew that Legato had really been in my head, that it had been real.

The dreams became a regular nightly ordeal. Legato's bruises and cuts began to draw my attention, and the pity I felt for him somehow began to evolve into infatuation. I had just, more or less, discovered my dick, and Legato was pretty, and my age. It's to be expected. I had personally witnessed two of the beatings Master Knives dealt upon Legato and I think young people always subconsciously pick specifically the worst possible person to fall in love with.

Legato always tried to avoid me by day, and I only realized he was psychic one day because I was staring at his package and he caught me.

*Will you just stop? You should find a hobby…* Clear and precise in my mind, Legato's voice. After that, I tried to avoid him too, practicing shooting more, and then, discovering alcohol. Evergreen had a cache, and I made myself at home with it, but while it got me to stop dreaming about Legato, I became more obsessive with him while I was awake.

The Human Side of the complex had about thirty rooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and several spacey common rooms. If Evergreen and I weren't around, and there were no other terrorists or mercenaries around, all of the space was Legato's. As far as I was aware, Knives mostly avoided the Human Side, except by night, when his proclivities drove him to Legato's room. By this time I was thoroughly convinced Knives was fucking Legato, it was obvious, and as horrible as that was, something about that made Legato just that much more desirable to me. I guess I've got a thing for victims.

One night I mixed an entire bottle of vodka with some juice, and passed out before ever putting a dent in it. The next morning, as I stood in the kitchen beginning my breakfast, Legato appeared.

"Hey 'Gato, you hungry?"

"That's not my name. What are you making?" He said before raising a jug of juice to his lips… As I watched I realized what he was doing, though he did not, and I let it go, this may be my only chance I thought.

"Whatever you want, 'Gato, what would make my little kitty happy?" He almost choked on the juice then, at the word kitty, but just kept drinking. I wondered if Legato had ever been drunk before, and I seriously doubted it. For once, his horrendous appetite paid off, he was going to down the whole jug, never realizing the taste was so very off.

In not very long at all, in all the predictable ways, I had Legato draped across my bed, his pants on the floor, and his beautiful mouth sucking and kissing at every bit of skin I had exposed. I figured he was probably about a year older than I was, fifteen or so, he said he had no idea himself. He laughed when I called him pretty, or said I loved him. He began to cry though, as soon as I started to fuck him. Nobody likes a quitter, and I knew this was my one shot. I'd never get Legato drunk again, I had no doubt, and Knives would definitely know. He might kill me. I opted to make the experience worth it.

In the end, it was actually rather easy to ignore Legato's whimpers and cries, and when I came and heaved against him I realized he was shaking all over. Terrified.

I tried to comfort him after the fact, that Knives wouldn't care (I knew it was a lie), that he meant something to me (becoming more a lie by the moment), and that what we'd done had been only natural, but he felt guilty. When he finally passed out, I dragged him to his own room, and began to contemplate the effects of that much alcohol on someone so thin, and decided he'd be fine, he'd survived worse.

The next time I saw Legato was four days later, and his face had been a mass of bruises, and he actually had a bite mark set into his jaw. He would not look at me. I couldn't blame him. The more I thought about it, the worse it was, ya know? If someone had done that to a girl, there's a name for it, and it isn't a pretty one. The worst part of the whole thing, it was totally pointless. My fascination for Legato died, almost on the spot of the drunken fucking, and the two of us couldn't handle being in the same room anymore. It bothered me that I had used him, but it almost excused itself because that was his purpose in life. I never saw Knives again, but my sad first love I watched deteriorate, and slip off the cliffs of sanity. I wonder sometimes, how much of the breeze that pushed him this way and that was I?


	5. Chapter 5

Note: This chapter is in an extremely different vein than the others. The basis turned out to be for the first orgasm the character experienced, rather than her first sexual act. I edited it though, so now it should convey that she was in fact a virgin, instead of how it was.

Warnings: Non/con, child abuse, violence, murder.

Bradley was a bastard. I didn't know why I put up with it, so much shit really. He wasn't nice to me, he called me a whore and hit me. He slept with all the girls I knew, some I didn't. Behind all of it was that belt-_that fucking belt_- and the whiskey smell so like my father I couldn't help the bile rising in my throat. That was when I decided he had to die.

One night, his usual crashing in the living room woke me up… It brought me back, to

_the cats screaming… I hear glass breaking. Theresa is yelling. She's not my mom, I'm supposed to hall her Mom, but Theresa is not my mom _

a place I'd nearly forgotten. I felt him slamming up the rickety stairs, and I saw him in my (blind) eye wrapping that belt around his hand, again and again, to tell me

"_Have to discipline your children! You run wild, like you're a woman or something!" _

that I had to pay for something. I felt my arms and legs tense, my body becoming ready for a chase, my back was tight, and my skin itched.

The door smashed off its hinges and it was

_Theresa is bleeding and choking, holding her throat. I can't help her, and my father is coming at me with that belt, crashing over chairs with murder in his eyes _

like a nightmare. Wood splintered all around me, and he came at me faster than I'd expected. His eyes were horrible, but his lips smiled, and without knowing he was going to kill me, maybe I would have seen what attracted me to him in the first place. He caught me on the jaw, the buckle on the outside of his fist ripping my chin open. I fell back, and he jumped on me, the belted hand against my face while he pressed his arm into my throat, his other hand rubbing wildly through the crotch of my pants, the fabric less than comfortable.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Something

_I should have done _

long ago." He used his size mostly, keeping me under his weight, out of breath, nothing in reach, nowhere to go. He couldn't get it inside me at first, I was dry as a bone from the fabric he'd roughly jammed into me, but he spit in his hand and that was the end of that. He crammed himself into me as hard as he could, he wanted it to hurt, his eyes told me that, his forearm choking off my air told me that. I gasped and tried to thrash, but he just laughed, told me to hold on tight, I

_just might like getting fucked by your daddy girl, hold on _

_tight._

_I bit him, in his throat. He yelled, but it came out more a growling bark, and tried to rip me off him. He was trying to get his fist out of the belt, and was pulling my hair with his other hand, and I just bit harder and harder until POP, and I taste copper, and everything goes red, and he's screaming and screaming, there's a ripping sound, and gurgling in his cries, I open my eyes, and look at the quivering mess that thought he could take something from me that I'd killed for already._

_In the blood and screams I felt something that had never happened, I was flooded with a rolling warmth, and I gasped as my cunt slickened. I arched into the bed, laughing as Bradley's blood cascaded onto me, and for a moment went blind in my good eye. Then I pushed him away, and sat up._

_He rolled around on the bed some, then pretty much just stopped moving. I could hear bubbly noises from him, but not much breathing anymore, so I got up, looked through his pants, pulled out the money and the gun, then found my best clothes, and a traveling coat. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up the best I could, and as Bradley died in the other room, I felt happy for the first time in a very long time._

_When I hit the road, I felt absolved of a life of pain, and I found it was always easy to kill men, they were just so un-likable._

_Reason denotes that I found Bradley because he was like my father. What sort of man wants a one-eyed woman? The blind and bloodshot eye showed him things about me, what had been done to me, that I had let it. I was a victim from the beginning, so even after the abuse I survived until the old man took my eye and I took his life, I never got away from him, just found another to take his place._


	6. Chapter 6

Note: This is the first installment I've made into this in two years, and I've decided that I may as well post it, it may go on and on forever, so there's no point in waiting. Anyways, enjoy! (Is this a noticeably different flavor, or what?)

Warnings: Non/con, violence, profanity, my normal shit. Oh, and madness too J

The walls were crowding in around me. I squeezed my eyes shut, and pressed my weights, growling; daring the walls to come after me. When I opened y eyes again, there was no room left, my barbell the width of the entire world.

I threw it.

Jumping to my feet, I smashed my head into the brick walls, and slammed into them with all the force I could manage. Rage shot up my spine and screeched from my mouth, and all of a sudden I could taste the blood from breaking my nose against the wall. 

Bricks shattered.

I wondered who was screaming for about two minutes before I realized it was myself I was hearing. The walls were broken, holes through them, and the windows were smashed. In the sudden silence I heard the blood pounding in my ears, and my ragged panting and choked sobbing.

I had to kill something. I had to taste blood. How could they keep me trapped in this place with no human contact? They gassed me at night to make me sleep, and that was when they'd leave food and take my messes. In my dreams it was always the same boy, a little younger than I was, who would tell me how my new weapons worked. When I'd wake, sure as shit, there they would be, new guns and ammo, knives and grenades. It was weird, but it was just the way things had been for as long as I could remember.

The kept me alive to kill, but left me in this hole to rot.

"Who are you, you blue haired bastard?" I screamed at the walls, and leaned into them. "You pussy! Knock me out every goddamn night, and creep into my head! You fucking faggot fairy sonofabitch! Come in here now, I dare you! Come in here and tell me why I'm here! Fuck you, you fucking pussy!" I gave up, my strength gone, and slumped to the floor.

A knife and a spilled box of bullets lay before me, and before I knew it, my hands held both. I cut a cross into each bullet, as methodically as I had as long as I'd been here, my breaths calming more and more.

The rage I'd felt had more or less seeped away, until I heard a key in my door, and the dry hinge it swung upon. This was the first time I'd ever heard the door, the fist time I believed the door actually led to something other than oblivion.

I jumped to my feet, slammed a clip into my gun, spun around and grabbed my jailer by his throat, smashing him into the wall. It was him alright, that mouthy little blue haired fuck. The only face I'd seen in nine years, that haunted all my dreams, and lingered in my personal fantasies, was now here, under _my control. _

_He was completely calm as I held the gun in his face, so I took my hand off his throat. I had spent a very long time imagining what I would do to him if I ever got the chance, and here it was. I set the barrel of my gun softly beside his nose, and pushed my free hand down his pants. I became instantly hard and began grinding against him._

_All said, it was probably twenty seconds that he let me do this, before my arm suddenly grew stiff and turned towards me, and I stared down the barrel of my own gun. "What is this, what the hell is going on?"_

_My other hand had become fully limp, and pulled itself away from him. He stepped back, a gleeful smile on his face, and my hand gripped my hard on, ripping at it, forcing me to fall to my knees. I tried to scream, and was paralyzed, unable to even open my mouth. He laughed._

"_You had some questions, I believe. I am Legato Bluesummers, and you are here to serve my Master." He paused, and stared at me very hard for a second, his golden eye glinting predatorily in the dark room. His face softened, and he continued. "As I'm sure you recall, you were sold to us for a very small sum. I've been instructing you for nine years now, so that you'll become an adept mercenary."_

_I was openly weeping as I stared down the barrel of my gun, my other hand attacking my groin, with the ferocity of a starved rat. The pain and pressure in my gut wanted to curl me into a ball, but my body refused me, and Legato Bluesummers laughed._

"_You dared me to come in here, didn't you? Not what you expected, I see. Well," he knelt down beside me, "you're certainly disappointing, aren't you?"_

"_Why are you doing this to me?" I pleaded as my hand still grasped against my painfully swollen and potentially permanently damaged dick._

"_Don't act so innocent. You wanted to hurt me, didn't you? You think I'd just come in here and let you rape me?" He laughed again, throwing his head back. "Not a chance." He smiled at me, his eye crazy. "I think that you need to learn what life is really about Monev. I don't think you understand suffering at all."_

_Painfully, my body lurched into a standing position, and my arms mechanically ripped my clothing off. My penis was shriveled and chaffed, bleeding. Legato leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching with a look of amusement on his face._

"_I don't really want to touch you, you know. You're a filthy human, after all. So, why don't you take care of it for me?" He laughed again, and I bent forward, gripping my gun and unscrewing its silencer. My arms brought the proffered metal tube to my lips, that grimaced backward and allowed it entry. Legato laughed and laughed, inside my head and out, echoing insanely off himself._

_I saw myself, maybe he wanted me to. I sat on my knees, blowing part of a gun. I wished it had a trigger._

_One of my hands snaked itself down my body, and pressed one, then two fingers inside me, and it hurt._

_I begged and Legato only laughed more._

_He would twist me and turn me, posing me and humiliating me, and I landed with my ass held high and my face flat against the cold floor. My arm reached around me, silencer still gripped, and I grimaced. He forced me to cram it inside myself, and pull it in and out. That's when he started to let me scream._

_Again, he set my free hand to attacking my already abused crotch, and then, as an afterthought, decided that this was not actually enough._

_Pain beyond what was happening to my body ripped me open, in a bright slash of agony across my mind. I was reduced to a fraction of self, and Legato poked and prodded all my memories and thoughts as though tonguing a sore tooth._

_There it all was, being kidnapped, beaten, sold. Isolated. And the secret urges that I'd harbored. I had become obsessed with Legato, I had forgotten what other people looked like…_

_Blood trickled down my thighs._

_When I could see again (vision flooding back to the horror) I lay on my back and Legato was actually knelt down astride me, watching the entire matter very closely now. The light in my eyes signaled consciousness, and he smiled again, that wolf-smile. Then he plunged a blade into my chest._

_I passed out, finally, unable to bear or be forced to bear even another second of it._

_When I woke I discovered myself to be badly disfigured, impotent as I'd feared, with ghastly stitches holding me together._

_I knew now. Life was pain, at least this one was. All I could really do was hope to share it a little. I shouldn't be the only one to suffer._


End file.
